


Hard

by a_january_girl



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Episode: s07e17 All Things, F/M, Post-Episode: s07e17 All Things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-05
Updated: 2016-08-05
Packaged: 2018-07-29 14:03:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7687411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_january_girl/pseuds/a_january_girl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A slightly drunk Scully knocks on Mulder's door, dripping wet, and with a revelation...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hard

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this fic for so many purposes. First, for @leiascully’s XF Writing Challenge with the prompt “Hard”, but also for the anon who requested a slightly drunk Scully… That prompt and that anon combined were clearly inviting me to write smut, right? Also, @storybycorey and @mulderscullyinthetardis wanted to see these dangling straps in a fic…
> 
> So here it goes, a little post “All Things” fic…
> 
> Thanks @crossedbeams for her amazing beta on this one. Rose, you truly are a gem ❤️ and this fic would have been nothing without your help…

It’s 1.54am when Mulder’s startled by a knock on his door. His VCR tells him so, glowing green numbers piercing the darkness of his living-room.  
He wasn’t profoundly asleep, but had dozed off on his couch like he does most of the time.   
These past few days his bed has not been appealing. Actually, his bed has stayed empty, and hasn’t been appealing at all since the morning he woke up in it, only to find her gone. He’d been desperately alone, tangled in his sheets, surrounded by her sweet smell and numbed by the memory of her hot naked body against his. She’d vanished, barely a fantasy, nothing more than this surreal image imprinted with a hot iron on every single one of his brain cells…  
It’s been three weeks, four days, a few hours, and he’s starting to wonder if they will ever talk about that night or if they'll forever pretend it wasn’t real. She’s acted like nothing has happened since then, and it’s torturing him. Seeing her every single day, so beautiful, so untouchable, and then remembering the silky feel of her skin, recalling her brazen tongue on his body, reliving her bold moves, hearing her sensual moans echo in his ears… And pretending it never happened, trying to convince himself this was just one more dream in the midst of all his Scully fantasies... Impossible. It had felt too real and too delicious. It’s eating him from the inside, killing him slowly, but surely. He isn’t sure he can keep this game of pretending up for much longer. The one thing he’s sure of is that he doesn’t want to sleep in his bed without her. 

He awakens quickly at the sound of a second round of knocks, these a little stronger than the first.  
Wiping the sleep from his heavy eyelids he reaches the door in a few long strides. He jerks it open with more strength than he first intended, and instantly regrets it when he sees who’s in the hallway. Scully is leaning against the wall in front of his apartment, wearing the sexiest dress he's ever seen her in, a small leather purse in one hand, her jacket in the other.  
She looks giddy, almost ready to crumple down on the floor, and she’s dripping wet, glistening from head to toe, her hair a damp mess sticking to her temples. A mermaid who’s just got out of the ocean after having exchanged her tail for a fresh pair of legs and doesn’t really know what to do about them or how the hell they’re supposed to keep her upright. Even when she’s not at her best, she’s electric. His vision is impairing all of his other senses and the picture is so unexpected it doesn’t seem real. He has to struggle to comprehend what’s going on. Gradually, he refocuses on the world around her and only then, realizing she’s soaked to the bone, does Mulder finally become aware of the unrelenting lashing of rain against his window. There’s a real storm outside and it has brought him Scully, flushed like she’s been running, her eyes bright with a lightning glow he’s never seen before. 

“Scully? What the—”

“Don’t…” she interrupts him. “Just don’t, Mulder… I’ve had it… This is all too hard...”.

Scully stumbles a little before straightening herself up, walking towards him. Pushing on his chest with the hand still clasped around her tiny bag she bumps him aside and makes her way inside. She totters around in his hallway and spins tipsily to look at him. He’s still standing by his door, his hand clasped around the knob, mouth shut tight and brows furrowed. He can’t help but being confused by all this. She hasn’t been at his place since that night, like it’s forbidden, toxic ground. And he has avoided her apartment too, their basement office being the only safe place they can share anymore without feeling uncomfortable. And now, she’s just barged in, and he’s gonna have to pretend again. Pretend he isn’t wounded, pretend he isn’t hurt, pretend he isn’t completely and utterly in love with her. Come to think of it, he really is pissed off, but at the same time, seeing her so vulnerable and exposed melts his heartstrings. He can’t explain, even to himself, why he doesn’t want her to come near him but longs to protect her, to cling to her at the same time.

“By all means, come on in, Scully, make yourself at home…” he says with a welcoming gesture of the hand, ironically inviting her to take the path she’s already taken and closing the door. She doesn’t seem to hear the sarcasm in his words as she makes herself at home, kicking off her heels which crash against his wall with two loud bangs, and throwing her bag and jacket over the back of a chair. He marvels at how someone so small can be so very wet—she’s drowning in her soggy clothes and dripping all over his floor. He’d be madder if he wasn’t so amazed by the silky black dress she’s wearing. It reveals enough cleavage to make him sweat with desire and his mouth water. Over her shoulders are two extremely thin straps and he can see another pair of black straps underneath, undoubtedly belonging to her bra. They frame her perfect ivory skin and draw his eye along the tops of her breasts. He’s never seen her in such a sexy outfit and he could also swear that those scattered shoes are brand new… He knows Scully’s footwear by heart, and it's the first time he's seen these black 4-inch fuck me pumps. Her ankles are his soft spot, he could stare at them for hours, admiring the curves and hollows there, trying to get a glimpse of skin every time she crosses her legs and her pants inch up a little. No wonder he’s struggling to stay mad right now, her heaving chest and bare legs are the most sensual vision he’s had of her in weeks. Ever since that night they won’t talk about, she seems to have made an incredible effort to show a minimum of skin in his presence, leaving her skirts and anything even slightly revealing in her cupboard. 

“It’s too hard, Mulder!” she repeats, a faint whine in her voice, slowly walking back towards where he stands unmoving. 

“What’s too hard? What on earth are you talking about Scully?” he asks as she tiptoes her way back to him. She steps closer with every second and he can’t help but defensively cross his arms over his chest, still upset, but powerless to stop her.  
Even out of her coat she’s dripping wet, tiny drops leaving a snaking streak in her wake.  She’s only inches from his body when he looks down and notices her tiny bare feet planted between his, toes painted bright red. Her exposed, delicate feet alone are almost enough to make him lose his anger, but he refuses to let her affect him that way. When he doesn’t move she takes hold of his forearms, unfolding his defensive posture. He wants to resist her, determined to keep hold of his righteous anger but when she groans slightly at his tension he can’t help but give in. When his arms fall alongside his flanks she presses her open hands to his ribs, wet palms making his t-shirt cling. He looks into her eyes and although he wants to take the upper hand and not let her do as she pleases, he doesn’t object—he’s been dying for her touch. He can feel his resistance melting away like ice in the sun, and so, instead of reasoning with her he’s having to concentrate on hiding the growing erection in his sweatpants from her. If she gets any closer he doubts he can hide it at all. He tries to step back but she stops him with a single word. 

“Enough.” And then her hands travel slowly up his pecs to his neck, fingers intertwining with the hair at the base of his skull. His breath is suddenly very short, and though he knows where she’s going with this, wants to go there with her, he isn’t sure he should let her. Not like this.

“Scully, have you been drinking?...” he asks quietly, hesitating between a smirking amusement and exasperation. 

“Maybe…” she concedes, not embarrassed at all by her acknowledgement. “Enough now…” she repeats with a whisper and tries to pull him down for a kiss.

_ Ok, she’s definitely been drinking _ , he thinks as her mouth opens in an attempt to trap his. She smells like wine and the dancing shimmer in her eyes implies she might not be in full possession of her senses right now. He has desperately waited for this, for her to make a move, some confirmation to assert the reality of this thing between them, but he doesn’t want it like this. Stopping her before she can bring her mouth to his lips he very gently pushes her away, pressing his hands on her shoulders to settle her back in front of him and barely shaking his head. Scully squeezes her eyes closed in a painful grimace, her jaw slackening and he knows she received his silent message, that he won’t let her do anything rash. He hates himself right now as he acknowledges the pain of rejection in her eyes, her shoulders hunching as she looks away, trying to shield herself from his rebuff. His heart is screaming that he’s crazy, that he should kiss the life out of her, and his dick is howling it’s agreement, hormones surging, tempting him to give into her desire and rip this hussy dress off. Instead, he takes a steadying breath and his brain gains the upper hand, turning him into the gentleman he always vowed to be with his partner. 

“Scully, don’t do this, you’re soaked, you’re drunk, and you look like you’re upset. You should just sleep it off…”

“I’m not drunk Mulder!” she snaps and her eyes open again, a piercing blue gaze that sends sudden flashes of anger towards him with such violence that he almost gasps aloud.

“I am not drunk”, she repeats, now using the deadly, rational voice she keeps for questioning a particularly loathed suspect. “Yes, I was drinking tonight, and I might be a little tipsy, but I’m not drunk, Mulder! I know what I’m saying and I know what I’m doing! Don’t you dare speak for me right now!”

She’s really fuming and he is confused by the strength of her reaction. Her words go straight to his heart, he hates that she has this indescribable ability to paralyze his frustration. He wants to speak, to move, to do something, anything that will make her understand his only intention was to make things right between them and to stop her from doing something she would regret, but he can’t find the words. He can’t find the way. He feels stupid, standing in front of her like a big brother telling off his teenage sister after her first all-nighter. He’s trying to shake her out off her dizziness without hurting her feelings but she’s not his sister, not even close. She's got a point after all, what right has he got to reprimand her like he just did? It’s not as if she’s his to lecture, even if he might want her to be.

“I’m sorry Scully… Let me get you...” he starts, not finishing his sentence and leaving her furious in his entryway. He heads to his bathroom, returning in an instant to wrap her in a giant towel. It only takes him ten seconds but now all traces of fury are gone from her face and she looks like she’s about to cry. His arms go round her in a protective envelope, hands landing on the back of her neck to tilt her head to his shoulder and she can’t fight the lonely tear that escapes her eye to roll faintly down her cheek. 

“Oh God, Scully, I’m sorry... I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to… Please, talk to me” he prays, trapping her chin with his fingers and trying to find her eyes and read in them an explanation for her coming here in the middle of the night and in the middle of this ‘we’re-not-gonna-talk-about-it’ nonsense of a crisis that’s been going on for far too long. 

She sighs deeply, trying to slow her breathing back to a normal pace, fighting not to burst into tears. He realises she was right, she mustn’t be that drunk, otherwise she wouldn’t be able to keep it all in like she manages right now.

“It’s so hard, Mulder” she whimpers, pressing her forehead against his chest to avoid his eyes. “So hard…”

He still doesn't know what she's talking about but doesn’t want to stop her, so he just strokes her hair lovingly, hoping to silently soothe her into finally sharing all that’s been left unsaid these past few weeks.

“I went out tonight… Alicia, Melissa’s roommate from college called me earlier, said she was in town and would love to see me. She wanted to go dancing and get a drink, to talk about old times and find out what’s new with me…” As she starts to explain, Mulder’s hands travel down her back to pat her dry with the towel. When she starts to shiver, he takes her by the hand and leads her to his couch.

“They were so alike! Alicia was Melissa’s double, and so I always considered her as an extension of my sister. I never kept secrets from either of them. Alicia knows about my life, she knows about my work, she knows about you…” Scully adds. They both sit, and he’s hesitant as to what to do. He’s ready to give her space, but is surprised when she settles close to him, their thighs brushing against one another. He holds her tight to his side to try to warm her up a bit, one hand behind her back settling on her hip, the other on her knee.  
“She asked about you, Mulder… She just wanted to know what we’ve been up to work-wise, I guess… But I suddenly felt very confused. All it took was your name coming up in conversation, and everything got blurry... She asked me about our work, knowing it’s the most important thing in my life, knowing I much I love it… But I realized I wanted to tell her about everything except work when it came to you… It was so hard, Mulder… So hard…”

“What did you want to tell her?”, he asks.

“It doesn’t matter what I wanted to tell her, because I didn’t say anything…” she answers. “I’m trying so hard to figure out my life, lately, Mulder. I wanted to stay in control, to keep you at arm’s length, I thought it was what was best… But I think I lost that battle tonight… I don’t want to fight anymore… It’s too damn hard...”. She sighs that last sentence and turns her eyes to him, stormy and unreadable.    
They’ve always been terrible at communicating with words, speaking just isn’t their strong suit. It’s never mattered though, not when they are usually so good at understanding each other with just a simple glance. What happened between them has altered this founding principle of their relationship, shaking everything they are. They need to find a way to reconnect.

“So I drank” Scully eventually continues. “I... We had a few glasses of wine and I made her talk about herself instead… Anything to avoid talking about the mess that’s my life right now…”. Her confession is painful to him as he realizes he's the cause of her turmoil. “I mean, look at me! I get all dressed up, do everything I used to for a girls night out, but who am I kidding? Why bother dolling myself up in this ridiculous attire when there’s only one person I wanna charm and he’s not even going to be there to see me…” she adds softly, and his heart skips a beat, tripping over the beginnings of hopefulness.

“When Alicia hugged me goodbye, she looked right into my eyes and simply told me “Dana... Don’t let your brain talk you out of following your heart…”. I tried to pretend I didn’t know what she was talking about, but she knew she had me figured. She left me with a “Say hi to Mulder for me!” and I froze, but I knew she was right. I had to come and see you, to settle things. I didn't want to take a cab home alone when I was just a few blocks away, so I walked here, and it started raining like hell. But I didn't care, it was like the rain was finally cleansing me of my doubts, like I finally knew where I was going if I wasn’t too scared to finish the journey… My life's a mess, Mulder, but it brought me to you.”

He loosens his grip a little, moved by the revelation she’s offering, and she shyly looks up to him, shrugging the towel off her shoulders to reveal her pure white skin.

“I’m sorry I’m the one making your life a mess, Scully” he offers, though he understands she isn't telling him all this to make him feel guilty. He watches despair flash in her eyes, and her hand joins his on her knee, squeezing him hard to emphasize her words. 

“No, Mulder, you’re not getting it. You have nothing to be sorry for. I’m the one to blame here” she’s suddenly very serious. His heart beats fast and he can tell she’s definitely not drunk—at least not anymore. She’s very lucid, and has analyzed all of this to terrifying perfection on her way over. 

“I’m the one who’s been trying to circumvent this new situation between us. I’m the one who pretended nothing ever happened. I’m the one who made this all awkward, sneaking out like a thief in the middle of the night, knowing you’d hate me in the morning…”

Finally! Finally they are going to talk about that night, he thinks… And yet, she looks so tortured he’s not sure he wants to have this conversation right now, with her shivering and wet and this vulnerable on his couch. The whole evening has been awash with conflicting emotions and he’d rather be tormented for another few weeks than have this end the way he’s been terrified it will. With her saying or doing something she’ll regret in the morning or worse, with her walking away for good.

“Scully… You’re frozen…” he says, trying to defuse the danger of the shock-like state she’s in. “Do you want something hot to drink, or maybe you wanna take a shower, or…”

“Shut up, Mulder” she scolds him. “I’m done fighting, I told you. We’re going to talk…”

His heart drops to his stomach, and he wonders what to expect.  _ We’re going to talk...  _ He’s been waiting for this and dreading it all at once. Swallowing a huge lump in his throat he doesn’t know if he should say anything or let her do the talking. Scully clearly feels him faltering because she decides to speak again, and he is grateful for it.

“Mulder, I’ve been stupid... I realized it tonight, wearing that dress and evading Alicia’s questions… I tried to pretend… I thought it was for the best and the only solution for us both… I wanted to give us the option to remain, I don’t even know… Professional? Good partners? Best friends?”. She pivots on his couch to face him, letting the towel crumple behind her and bringing her hand to his face. As unnerved as he is by her looming revelation, Mulder's just a man and can't help taking a peek at her perfect breasts as she breathes rapidly. He quickly brings back his eyes to hers and sees there the gravity of her impending confession.

“God, that was so stupid, Mulder… I was so stupid but I know now… I guess I’ve known deep down for a while, but tonight was my moment of epiphany… Mulder… It’s too hard to pretend I don’t feel it anymore when I just want to scream it, to shout it to the world…” 

“What…?” he dares to ask, holding his breath, heart in his throat.

There’s no hesitation in Scully’s voice, no doubt in her eyes as she bends over him and brings her mouth close to his. 

“I love you…” she rasps. His stomach leaps and flutters with pure joy and he wants to kiss her so badly but she doesn’t stop talking. “God, I love you so much, Mulder…” she repeats and her eyes shut tight with the strength of her confession. “And the truth is, ever since that night, I can’t stop thinking about you. I try to focus on our work, on what used to be but all I keep thinking about is you putting your hands on me, your tongue on my skin, about how delicious you taste. You’re talking about UFOs and I’m imagining you moving inside me again… It’s been so hard to hide, and I don’t want to hide anymore. I want it all. I want you. I want us... I love you.” she repeats, and she finally locks her mouth to his in a heated kiss. 

His heart is pounding and his dick is throbbing like hell, her words working magic on his body. This kiss is delirious, her tongue stroking his, his teeth trapping her lips and moans echoing in both their throats. Their hands look for skin to touch and their faces seek the right angle, desperate to merge into each other again. He tries to savour all the sensations rushing at the speed of light to his heart, his brain and his groin. He crushes into her, making her sprawl against the armrest of his couch. His hands become frantic and reach for the thin straps of her dress and her bra, brushing them aside until they dangle over her arms. They’re like dark liquorice strings against her milky skin, and he’s now desperate to taste more than her lips. Her perfect frame is so tempting, and he kisses her collarbone, sucking at it and using his tongue to bathe the hollow of her throat. She doesn’t object, exposing her neck to give him better access and gasping loudly when he presses his hard-on against her stomach.  _ Too many layers here _ , he thinks, and he decides to stop kissing her long enough to finally voice his thoughts. He hopes she already knows what he’s about to tell her, but he needs to say it anyway. He needs for them to be bound with the promise they were too afraid to utter a few weeks ago. 

“God, Scully, I love you too, I love you so much I can’t even remember what it was like not having you in my life…”. As he speaks, his mouth comes back to her neck, and he caresses her over her dress, hands travelling from her shoulders to her breasts, pinching and teasing, then moving across her stomach to the hemline of her skirt. He needs to touch her. Her chest is heaving and he can see she’s struggling to keep her eyes open, to drink in his declaration. She’s covered in goosebumps and he smiles. “Scully, I’ve loved you for so long… It’s been hard for me too, you know… Pretending I wanted nothing more than your friendship, when all I could think about was discovering what was hidden under those oh-so-respectable suits…” 

She laughs, and he knows they’re finally where he wanted them to be, carefree and lighthearted, at last able to voice their love for one another. He’s the one feeling tipsy now, looking at her incredible smile, hoping he’ll be surrounded by this bliss for the rest of his life. He’s light-hearted, drunk on his feelings for her, drunk on the heat emanating from her chest, drunk on her dizzyingly perfect body. She needs to understand how desperate for her he is.  

“So hard…” he repeats, and he grinds his erection into her with a smirk until she pants and one of her hands leaves his neck to cup the bulge in his jeans.    
  
“As a medical doctor I can confirm this is indeed hard!” she teases, and he kisses her again, joyfully, playfully. He never wants this to stop. His brain ceases to function and his body takes over, driven only by desire and passion. He brings his hand to her breast, squeezing her roughly over her dress, his thumb torturing her nipple through the fabric, and slides the other between her naked thighs. As it travels up, searching for the barrier of her underwear, images of the first time they had sex pour back into his mind. She had seemed timid, a little shy, even though he never doubted she really wanted what had happened. But tonight, whether it’s the lingering remains of alcohol rushing through her veins, or their words finally cutting through years of denial, she is wild under his touch. 

She opens her thighs and her hand on his dick works furiously at his zipper. Her breaths are hectic, and it looks like she wants to speak but can’t, words catching on the harsh sighs coming in and out of her chest.

When his fingertips finally trace the edge of her panties, he can’t believe how wet she is for him. It makes him want to growl in delight and he fights hard not to instantly tear the lace off her butt, needing to fill his hands with her ass...

She is sighing, moaning unhibited sounds but finally manages to speak.

“Mulder…” she hesitates, and he can tell she's finally letting her walls come down, finally pushing past the barriers she’s erected, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment though her eyes are bright with determination. “I just need you to… fuck me…” she whispers, not looking at him in the eyes as if surprised by her own boldness. He absolutely loves that Scully’s still capable of surprising him. She’s as much of a contrast in bed as she is in life, how can she speak such bold words and be coy at the same time? He's already seen her naked, seen her lose her mind under his touch, seen her come, whining with pleasure, and yet she still sounds insecure, hesitancy warring with the audacious words of seconds before.  
As much as he'd like to stay where he is, one hand snaking into her panties brushing her swollen folds, he also wants to take her to his bed. It’s almost painful when he forces himself to stop his caresses and stands up. With a dazzling smile he reaches out his hand for her to get up too. She grins back and puts her palm into his, but instead of getting up, she pulls him back to her, and he's so surprised it doesn't cost her much effort to drag him back on the couch next to her. 

“Now, Mulder… Here!” Scully pleads, and she reaches straight for his dick, slipping her tiny hand inside his pants. Her fingers are toying with his cock through his boxers, and he’s sure he’s going to explode if she doesn't stop this soon. Seeing him respond, her insecurities fly away and she shifts him until he's kneeling between her legs, and frees him, barely pushing his sweatpants over his ass, fingers tightening around his length until he bucks instinctively into her. Her grasp is delicious, velvet against steel, and he needs to touch her too, just to make sure this is not another fantasy. His hands press into the couch, clenching on either side of her. From here he can hover over her, see every inch of her as she strokes him, tantalising him until he decides to use his mouth instead of his fingers. His lips crash on to her collarbone again, and he thoroughly licks her throat and neck, tasting her racing pulse on her skin. His eyes are drawn back to the fragile black straps still dangling over her arms, the contrast of perfect skin and silky fabric confounding him. They are thin, barely there, but are somehow so sexy in their slightness, in what they fail to cover that they cloud his brain and turn him feral. His tongue traces them along her upper arm, licking at the spot on her breast where they meet the neckline of the dress. He then proceeds to tear at the fabric with his teeth in an attempt to pull down her dress, but despite his efforts the barrier of silk is immovable. Instead, he keeps torturing her over the cloth, his teeth nibbling hard on her nipples through both her dress and her bra. Despite the layers, she moans and arches her back, but he knows they both need more. She puts an end to her misery and, with her free hand, tugs on her stubborn bodice, taking her bra down with it and freeing a perky nipple. He sucks and nibbles at it in a frenzy, and he knows she's joined him in heaven, eyes shut and her mouth falling open in delight. She bites her lower lip and keeps stroking his erection from base to tip, and the vision alone of her coral tongue grazing her pearly white teeth kills him. He needs to be inside her right now. 

Straightening up on his knees, he reaches for the hemline of her dress, and inches it up around her waist, and Scully lets go of him so she can wriggle out of her underwear with his help. She is savage and radiant at the same time. 

Their first time had been the way a first time should be. Gentle and sweet, sometimes awkward and hesitant but ultimately loving. But he already knows this time is going to be fierce, untamed, primitive... They're not even naked and they're already about to join in this erotic dance. Scully reclines on the armrest, offering her bare waist to the erection he's holding near her entrance. He bends forward and their chests collide, the cotton of his shirt scraping against the confusion of silk and skin, preventing any skin on skin action and offering only the faintest shadow of the relief their nipples are hoping for. 

But it's too late to remedy the situation as he slides into her easily, in one slow motion, and it's like he's always belonged there. Everything around them disappears and his comatose heart finally ignites and comes to life in his chest. His hands slide to her back, between her and the couch as he grips her shoulder blades, desperate to find the best leverage he can. He marvels as Scully voices her pleasure in pants and groans, and as she arches back into him, her hands firmly gripping his naked butt, he knows this feels as deliriously good for her as it does for him.

“God Scully… I love you so much” he can't help but repeat, and she matches his thrusts like they've been doing this for years. He wants her in so many way, and he can't believe his luck when she grasps his butt cheeks and languidly murmurs in his ear “I'm yours Mulder, all yours, just take me…”. At last, she's his friend, his partner, his soulmate, his lover… She’s his everything, she's  _ his _ … 

Their hunger is insatiable and his shirt is so sweaty right now it’s almost like he was just outside in the rain with her. She never stops moaning as he restlessly slams into her, minute upon minute of ravenous thrusting until he is so close to coming that it’s all he can do to make sure she’s there with him. Lowering a hand to her slick core between them, he slowly circles her clit with his thumb and her eyes open wide at the sensation. She pants, looking at him like she's about to sob with pleasure, mouth opening and closing without saying anything. Her hands leave his ass to clutch the back of his t-shirt. They don’t stay here long though, as she’s frantically trying to find something to cling on to, and soon nestle in his hair to lower his mouth to hers. 

Their kisses turn furious, his tongue madly swiping against hers as she whines and he feels her climax around his cock, her pussy tightening along his length with strong rippling spasms. He moans her name against her lips, accenting it with all the love he's been saving for her for seven years and then he comes too. Spilling into her is a heavenly release.  
As he tries to catch his breath, he struggles to believe what has just happened. He just had sex with Scully again, this time the need so urgent that both of them are still half clothed, they couldn’t find even the half a minute it would have taken them to undress… She must be thinking the same thing because she suddenly giggles, trying to slow her breath under his weight as she comes down from her orgasm. He chuckles back, amazed at how happy and carefree she looks now, when not so long ago she was ready to pretend never to have felt all of these incredible sensations. He places an open mouthed kiss on her still hard nipple before he covers it and reaches for the straps on one of her arms, smoothing them back where they belong on her shoulder. He laughs again at the ridiculous situation, at him trying to help Scully get dressed again when she's not even naked, two bodies still clothed but tangled together and drenched with desire and rain and sweat. 

Maybe it is ridiculous, but it’s also the most incredibly intense sex he's ever had. 

Scully searches for his mouth with her thumbs and traces a promise on his lower lip. She is smiling, and so incredibly beautiful that his heart splits open, a million fragments exploding with wonder from his chest. In her eyes, he can read both her joy and her relief, and he knows he doesn't have to ask any more impossible questions…

Yes, tonight, she'll stay. Yes, she'll be here in the morning. Yes, they'll make love again. And he swears to himself that time, if he can lure her there, he'll make her never want to leave his bed again. And his eyes tell her no, that things will never be this hard between them again. Not when it comes to what they mean to each other. That will be easy, the future rolling on like the unstoppable water of a mighty stream for as long as they have each other in their arms.


End file.
